


When Draco Met Harry: Act 1

by Idishi



Series: When Draco Met Harry [Series] [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternative Perspective, Canon Conversation, Could Be Canon, First Impressions, First Meeting, Just a two shot for now, M/M, Pre-Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-19 08:06:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5960185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idishi/pseuds/Idishi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Draco found himself waiting impatiently in Madame Malkin's shop, he didn't expect that he would meet his one and only black-haired, green-eyed, bespectacled soulmate.</p><p>If only the other boy knew it.</p><p>Or, how I imagine Draco's thoughts when he first met Harry. Using the original book canon dialogue :D</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Scene 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a piece of alternate perspective working with the original canon plotline, so it was imperative that I used the original conversation as written by the author. Note that ALL lines within quotation marks are the property of JK Rowling. They are reproduced here as they appeared in The Philosopher's Stone, and I have merely conjectured what was going on through Draco's mind.

         The robe shop was empty, but Draco got the immediate impression that he was enclosed within a crowd. But here he was, alone and waiting for the Malkin witch to cater to his Hogwarts robes while his mother set out to buy his books.

        

         The bell on the door dinged, and to Madame Malkin's obvious impatience, her shop assistant was buried under several heavy bolts of fabric.

         She excused herself before rushing to welcome the patron.

         Draco wasn't at all interested in whomever had just walked in, but when he turned and met the most startling bottle green eyes he'd ever seen, he was taken aback. He didn't recognize him, but they seemed to be about the same age, so he hazarded a guess and started a conversation.

         "Hello," he said as casually as he could. "Hogwarts, too?"

         The other boy looked at him in apparent surprise, but answered in the affirmative.

         Draco realized immediately that he had nothing else to say, so he came up with the safest topic he could think of just to keep talking to this mysterious stranger. Surely having parents was something that any two boys could have in common.

         "My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands." When the black-haired boy's eyes flickered uncertainly, Draco felt the need to keep his attention to himself. Quidditch was another thing that they could surely bond over! "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

         When even that comment failed to get a reaction from the other boy, Draco only persisted. So what if he felt like he was talking to a brick wall?

         "Have _you_ got your own broom?"

         _No._

         "Play Quidditch at all?"

         _No._

         " _I_ do - Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my House, and I must say, I agree. Know what House you'll be in yet?"

         _No._

         Draco was stumped. What else could he even bring up to get this boy to talk to him?! He had pondered endlessly with his other friends about which House they would be placed in, so he had thought it was a good enough reason to talk about it. He continued to push, though.

         "Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been - imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

         _Mmm._

         'Merlin!' Draco raged internally. Why couldn't he have even a decent exchange of sentences with this beautiful boy in front of him? Was his Malfoy charm failing? Was he doing something wrong? Was there something in his teeth?!

         At this point, Draco felt defeated, left with nothing else to talk about or bring up.

         To his delight, however, he saw a gigantic man block the light from outside the storefront. How else could he create a lasting memory than to share an exciting giant sighting with the silent boy?

         He nodded toward the front window. "I say, look at that man!"

         The brunet turned his head towards the giant, and there was a sparkle in his eye which gave Draco a sort of hope that his last effort wasn't in vain. "That's Hagrid," the boy said slowly. His voice was very soft, like a whisper. "He works at Hogwarts."

         Feeling suddenly warm and happy, Draco couldn't help but have a smug expression on his face. He had succeeded! The boy was finally talking to him!

        "Oh," he replied, trying to sift through his knowledge of Hogwarts and its employees. He didn't want to seem ignorant. He recalled a few stories about a giant on campus, though he admittedly didn't know much except for hearsay. What could anyone expect from an eleven year old but to repeat whatever he had heard? "I've heard of him. He's a sort of servant, isn't he?"

         "He's the gamekeeper."

         Finally, Draco rejoiced. They actually had something to talk about! He felt like they were playing a game, wherein they could whisper in secret and make crazy theories about strange wizards they saw out and about. He used to play that with Blaise when they were younger.

         "Yes, exactly," he answered. He decided to share one of his favorite theories about the giant gamekeeper. "I heard he's a sort of _savage_ \- lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed." Theo had thought that was quite funny, and Pansy had gone to bed that night with nightmares about a giant setting fire to her bed. Draco used to tease her about it.

         "I think he's brilliant," the boy said, his tone slightly cooler.

         " _Do_ you?" Draco said, face still caught in a smug sneer now that he knew he was getting a proper reaction from the boy. Perhaps it was time for more personal questions? He did want to know him much better, after all. "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"(Draco was already imagining what it would be like to introduce _his_ own parents to this boy's family.)

         "They're dead," was the reply.

         Draco turned to him abruptly before turning away again, slightly flustered. He didn't know exactly how to respond. "Oh, sorry," he said, trying not to put too much pity in his tone. He knew it was rude to pity people for a death. Perhaps these deaths were in the Prophet? "They were _our_ kind, weren't they?"

         "They were a witch and a wizard, if that's what you mean."

         Draco nodded. If they were both magical, Draco could probably look back on the news to find out more... at least it seemed this boy had no Muggle blood then, which oddly comforted Draco. It meant that his father wouldn't think twice about welcoming him whenever he came over to the Manor to hang out or study.

         Since the boy was a pureblood, Draco quickly became relaxed, and decided to bring up the typical topics that he and his friends would discuss amongst themselves.

         "I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families."

         He looked to the boy, who seemed to be fidgeting a bit. His eyes, however, remained just as bright, and perhaps even fiercer now that Draco thought about it. He felt his heart flutter at the sight of the emerald color, burning bright into his soul. He was only eleven, but he thought this was what it must feel like to fall for someone head over heels.

         And he didn't even know the boy. "What's your surname, anyway? he asked, holding his breath to finally know the name of the man who would someday hold his heart.

         "That's you done, my dear," Madame Malkin's voice cut like a knife, and before Draco could stop him, the boy had already scrambled from the measuring platform and on his way out.

         Desperately, he called out, "Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose."

         Inwardly, he deflated. He had somehow felt drawn to the black hair and green eyes. Even with the abhorrent round glasses, the boy had seemed oddly interesting to Draco. He knew now that he couldn't wait until he got on the train to Hogwarts.

         Who gave a damn if he didn't get to be friends with the legendary Harry Potter, like his father had drilled into him? He had found his soulmate, and that was worth more, in Draco's opinion. 

         Much, much more.  


        

 

        

        

 


	2. Scene 2

          The moment he stepped onto the platform, Draco could hardly contain his excitement. It had been a long month just waiting for the first time he would board the Hogwarts Express.

          Of course, he was also much more excited at the prospect of finally making friends with his possible soulmate.

          His father had reminded him, time and again, about the importance of keeping his Malfoy reputation as pristine as possible (which meant, of course, never getting caught). He also wasted no time nagging his son about the gravity of making the right friends - and Harry Potter's name had come up so often during these talks that Draco had gotten used to tuning his father out and focusing instead on his only memory of the black haired boy.

          How disappointed he had been when the train was already halfway to Scotland and he had yet to catch a glimpse of his mystery boy. Where was he? All first years were required to take the Hogwarts Express as part of the school tradition. If the brunet hadn't been lying (and what reason would he have for lying about going to Hogwarts?!) then how come Draco hadn't come across him?

          As he got bored, there were suddenly whispers throughout the compartments about the one thing that Draco had already expected, and cared nothing about: _Harry Potter had come to Hogwarts._

Looking askance at his two self-proclaimed bodyguards, Draco forced his own arse out of his seat and decided to at least do his father a favor and get this Harry Potter business out of his (gorgeous) hair. That would mean one less thing to worry about, and it also meant more time to think instead of his silent stranger.

          Following the directions of the other Slytherins, he finally made his way to the compartment that apparently housed the Boy Who Lived. Without much fanfare, he told Crabbe to open the door for him.

          And what a surprise it was.

          For instead of the mythical Harry Potter, Draco found himself face to face with his mystery boy.

          And he couldn't hide the fact that he was looking at him with a lot more interest than he'd shown back in Diagon Alley.

 

          Remembering his original reason for coming by, he finally found his voice. "Is it true? he asked. "They’re saying all down the train that Harry Potter’s in this compartment. So it’s you, is it?” he inquired, with a hidden feeling of excitement bubbling under his perfect Malfoy Mask.

          "Yes," the boy answered without much interest.

          In an instant, Draco's mind suddenly started working double time. His mystery boy was Harry Potter! Oh, how fortunate for this wonderful twist of fate! He couldn't wait to tell his father that not only was he so close to making friends with the boy hero, as he had been encouraged by his parents, but that he was practically infatuated with him already.

          He finally came back to earth, and only belatedly realized that he had failed to make the proper introductions.

          “Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle,” he said imperiously. “And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.” He added a little formal bow to show the other boy that he was honored to meet his acquaintance. Thank Merlin for all those etiquette lessons!

          However, he was distracted by the odd coughing noise supplied by the other boy in the compartment that Draco hadn't even noticed until now, blinded was he of Harry Potter's mere presence. His daydreams didn't help his focus either.

          "“Think my name’s funny, do you?" he asked the boy, sure that he had been sniggering at him. Only then did he take in his appearance. "No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford.”

          It was true. His father did tell him that.

          But he was going on a tangent. He put all of his focus back on Potter (Harry!) once more. He felt such a nice tingle go up his spine when he met the stormy green eyes. He almost forgot to breathe. Now what was the right way of going about this new friendship? Ah, try and make him realize that Draco was above the rest and absolutely worthy of his attentions.

          "“You’ll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter," he said nonchalantly, remembering how his own childhood friends had wanted to become closer to him upon learning of his family. "You don’t want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there.”

          With a flourish (which hid his nerves at being so direct with someone he really, really secretly liked), he offered his fair hand in a gesture of camaraderie.

          To his shock, however, Harry Potter glanced at his proffered hand, looked back into his eyes, and spoke with a cool tone laced with rejection. "I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks."

          And Draco immediately felt the immense weight of shame and embarrassment as his offer of friendship was publicly denied. He quickly withheld his trembling hand and felt the burning pink of his cheeks. While his heart felt like it had imploded on itself, his mind, always so sharp, came to his rescue by automatically going on the offensive.

          “I’d be careful if I were you, Potter,” he said slowly, his low voice not betraying the anguish he suddenly felt inside. “Unless you’re a bit politer you’ll go the same way as your parents. They didn’t know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it’ll rub off on you.”

          When both Weasley and Harry (he was still Harry in Draco's mind, he bitterly mused) stood up from their seats, Draco couldn't help but put on a brave face. How could he ever move in from this? He felt as if all of his hopes and dreams had been placed in front of him then promptly _Incedio_ 'd as he helplessly watched.

          "Say that again," the redhead challenged, bringing Draco back to the present.

          "Oh, you're going to fight us, are you?" He couldn't help but sneer. If this was going to be his main opponent for Harry's attentions, so be it. No Weasley could ever best him. Perhaps this was a way for him to save face in front of Harry, and show him that he was making a mistake by not wanting to be with him. Nothing like proving your love right in front of -

          "Unless you get out now," Harry suddenly said threateningly, which was something coming from someone so small and thin. His eyes, though...

          Draco felt his throat seize up. Was Harry kicking him out?! Was that it? That was the moment he had been dreaming of for the last four weeks, and this is how it all came to be?

          It was pandemonium in his head. He always got what he wanted. Always. Once again, his heart took cover while his mind began falling into the usual Malfoy air when threatened.

          "We don't feel like leaving, do we boys? We've eaten all our food and you still seem to have some."

          He had only meant to rile up Weasley, but he didn't expect Goyle - stupid Goyle - to take his word for it and actually take the chocolates.

          Before Draco could remind his bodyguard how dumb he was being, the broad-shouldered bully let out a horrible yell and started waving his hadn around. It wasn't until the fat rodent had come flying off from his hand that Draco realized his friend had been attacked.

          There were footsteps and whispers from outside the compartment, and Draco suddenly felt like leaving. Without a second glance, he rushed out, not even checking to see if Crabbe and Goyle were behind him.

          His soulmate had ultimately rejected him. He had done his best to make a good impression, but it was to no avail. All the daydreams, everything from his imagined future with his black haired boy - Harry Potter - his one true...

          All sights and sounds were blocked from Draco. Come to think of it, all feeling had apparently seeped out of him, leaving only a dull ache in the pit of his stomach that he felt his heart had decided to bury itself in there.

          There was no other metaphor for it. Draco Malfoy was heartbroken.

 

         

         

 


End file.
